


Need You Now

by Tezca



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Gen, Light Angst, Platonic Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21866167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tezca/pseuds/Tezca
Summary: Get drunk, have sex and maybe a deal with the Devil.
Relationships: Crowley/Anathema Device
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9
Collections: Oh Come All Ye Sinful! A Depraved Holiday Exchange 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the holiday exchange 2019 from the M25 and Ineffable Temptation servers. I hope y'all enjoy this!

_May 31st, 2032_

Exactly 13 years after the Apoco-fuck-you-Heaven-and-Hell, Anathema’s life was changed once again. One may assume since all of her biggest milestones in life; saving the world, burning the second set of prophecies, marriage, divorced, all happened in the village of Tadfield, that it’ll be the same song and dance. A weird way for the Universe to keep the circle unbroken.

If this was a movie, Armageddon would’ve taken place in London (or Los Angeles or NYC take your pick). Somewhere most people can confidently point out on a map. Not WhereIsThatAgainVille, England (or America). But it wasn’t. Life wasn’t some Oscar bait cinematic film that ranked in millions of dollars and awards. 

Instead, Anathema laid in bed in her rented flat above A.Z Fell and Co. Eyes wide awake and up towards the ceiling. This was her life now, single and her closest friends are a pair of supernatural beings. Which is fine, well for the most part. She realized it was...odd in a way, she should have some human friends her age. But the problem was, all of them are online and it would be hard one way or another to meet up. 

Aziraphale had encouraged her in the past to meet up with some of the local people. Perhaps some of her London-based online friends. She thought that was a great idea, but she got hit with the stark realization that it was hard to make connections when they don’t want to hear about anything conspiratorial or witchcraft. 

“I can’t really go back to visit...I might run into my family. Besides, most of my old friends are too busy with their own lives.” Anathema once told him with an air of contented resignation, still bitter about her well being being dismissed by the ones that raised her.

And despite what one may think from the previous paragraph, she did indeed have a job. She worked at a nearby bakery and helped Aziraphale run his bookshop from time to time. It did take a bit to get used to his ‘don’t sell books’ policy, the very idea going again what she knew about how to run a business. But she was reassured she would still be on his payroll for whenever she assisted him. 

(Only problem with that was Aziraphale thought the minimum wage was still at Victorian Era levels, which was a nice monthly total of eight dollars a month. A good part of her got just as annoyed as Crowley would get about his outdated habits that day. Ultimately, she let it go, the bakery job and the amount of money she brought with her from America was enough to keep her financially stable).

So back to the current time, we established that Anathema was definitely the opposite of asleep. For how long, well you, the reader, know as much as she does. What she did know was, it wasn’t dawn yet but it had to be at least a couple or so hours since she got under the covers at 11pm. She turned over and brought the duvet over her with the intention of going asleep but the other thing needed – a conscious effort – was not there. 

Mainly, in due part, because her mind decided to betray a basic human need for a good night's rest. Luckily, however, one can still live with an all nighter here and there.

The dead quiet of the room, and by proxy the bookshop, wasn’t enough to unnerve her. Never had, even when the shop below was devoid of one Love filled angelic being for an extended period of time. Still, that didn’t mean she was immune to the kind of melancholy dreariness of the night. Wasn’t really anything particularly interesting online at the moment either, and the current conversation on Discord wasn’t anything she can spend two cents on. 

(It was on their favorite childhood hangouts and the stuff they got up to during their teen years.)

And she was too busy anyways in a sense. Her mind had ran off freely and decided to replay the memories of the last ten years. Of course the effect was that it brought all of the different mixed emotions that were attached to each one like an unseemly blemish. 

_August 19th, 2022_

It was a quarter after one am and Crowley was drunk. Sure one would think he would be at the angel’s bookshop while in this state since that had be the case for the past couple of months or so. But, and this should be prefaced with an apology for how anti-climatic this would sound, the reason he was alone this time was simply because Aziraphale went to some rare book auction in Scotland. He was offered to go but to no one’s surprise he declined. 

He’ll be bored out of his wits within ten minutes so it was for the best for everyone involved. No one cool like him would want to be surrounded by a bunch of stuffy old fuddy-duddys who’d pay massive amount of money for a book they’ll hardly read. 

Well cool by his standards anyways.

So after he binged watched Golden Girls, he decided to partake in one of his favorite pastimes when he was alone. And if he wasn’t in the mood to berate his plants like a drill sergeant. That is to say, get sloshed up the wazoo.

Usually he can handle himself when he was alone. But something was different enough, the apocalypse been averted and for the first time ever, he and Aziraphale can do fuck shit without Heaven and Hell after their ass. They spend more time together in the last couple of months than in the two years prior to the baby switch. 

Which meant Crowley realized he enjoyed getting drunk when he wasn’t relegated to just his own thoughts to keep him company. He wanted someone to talk too. He wanted to be ‘lets have stupid nonsensical conversations’ drunk, not ‘wallowing in his own despair’ drunk. They had both confessed their love not just two weeks ago so he didn’t have that unrequited love issue anymore. 

Thank Someone for that really, it was about time either one of them worked up the courage now they were cut loose and left on Earth. And gratefully it was Aziraphale that started that conversation, as awkward as he was about it. But the thing with him was that he now had more confidence to say what he wanted compared to before.

Yes he still stammered and there was the presence of the usual nerves. But something was different. The key that gave the impression that this may end in the one thing he wanted since that fateful day up on the wall of Eden. 

And that was the lack of denial. 

There was nothing of the sort in play anymore which meant Aziraphale wasn’t afraid to admit it anymore. His voice was bolder, had more conviction in it. He was proud to finally say that he loved Crowley and had been since the day he rescue him in that church back in the early 1940s. Any nerves related to Heaven and Hell were now gratefully gone. 

Any present nerves between the two of them at that point in time were related to how the other would react.

Crowley downed a bottle of champagne – the third one that night – before he made the decision to screw everything and call the one human he called his best friend. And also the only one besides Aziraphale he would get drunk with. 

A swig and a snap later, his phone was in his hand. He had to concentrate a little harder due to his state of mind as he unlocked and made his way to the keypad. Her number was listed under the aptly nickname of ‘book girl’.

It was impossible at this point to hide how drunk he was, “Hey ‘Nathema you’re awake? Is, um...shit, glasses boy there?” He asked. Crowley certainly can’t be half arsed to remember what his name. Not even a third of a half arsed at the level of drunkenness he was in. Something lizard related at least, “...good, that’s good.....summon me would ‘ya?”


	2. Chapter 2

_May 31st 2029_

It was half past two in the morning and Anathema was still wide awake in bed. Only thing that changed was that her mind seemed to be stuck in a loop with an unexpected existential crises. If there was any part of her that still held onto the futile hope of sleep, well, it took off for the stars by now. 

One of the lovely perks of that came with super awareness of something. Couldn’t her mind chosen a better time for this? Well, actually no, anytime not really a good time. She just would prefer to not even give it a millisecond of a thought. Too heavy to think about just casually on a random day. But it was one of those things one knew it would be best to face sooner than later.

She really, really didn’t want to lose this dynamic she had with Crowley. This beneficial deal where it came to the matter of sexual needs. Crowley was in love with Aziraphale and Anathema – understandably – didn’t exactly want to be in a relationship in general right now. Just the occasional one night stand with Crowley was good enough.

If she was ready at this point, then she would have more than one half of the population to choose from. Actually it was more she wished there was more angels and demons on Earth like Crowley and Aziraphale. Hell if there were more angels and demons on Earth – and, hypothetically, humanoid aliens – her choices would increase exponentially. 

If there was a word for sexually attracted to any humanoid shape being, not just actual humans, then she was definitely that. For now until she finds such a word, she’ll just use queer pansexual. Close enough anyways, her ‘meetings’ with Crowley had led her to the realization that she was more than just bi.

But that wasn’t the reality. So far she hadn’t run into any other Earth bound supernatural beings. Which was fine really, less overwhelming in that case. And speaking of Crowley, she wouldn’t mind another beneficial rendezvous. 

She was just afraid for the inevitable period in her life when she gets all wrinkly and her hair turned gray, Crowley would surely want to end this deal with her. And that is the opposite of what she wanted. She didn’t want to and she could make an educated guess that Crowley didn’t either. They had a great thing going. She didn’t want them to give up this or any other aspects that could lead from it. Like her treasured friendships with Aziraphale and Crowley.

She didn’t want to end up as a reminder of the short lived timespan humans have just because she grew older. What would she do if they weren’t in her life anymore? She didn’t want to waste away forgotten in her golden years in some run down, underfunded nursing home with no one to visit. 

That was no future she wanted. And the only way she could think of to avoid that depressing outcome is either find a spell that would grant her immortality. Or make a Deal with the Devil, specifically, a Deal with Crowley.  
Anathema got up from under the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She immediately looked over to the table and grabbed the sleek thing iPhone that she had received as a birthday gift from said demon. She absentmindedly looked at the screen as her mind mulled over the cons and pros. It would most likely take quite a bit of persuading to get him to agree. 

But with the alternative, it might take potential years to hunt down a spell or even just create a spell. And she felt confident enough that she can do the task but – maybe it was the heat of the moment and the influence of her complicated emotions – but she felt impatient. She wanted to fix this problem sooner now rather than, well rather than when she looked like some wrinkly old hag. 

And plus there wasn’t anything that halted her back from the potential pain and grief that came with immortality. She had no family anymore, nobody she once knew from America that she still talked too. She still cared about Newt and her online friends, but they had their own lives. Their own loved ones to care for. 

She brought the phone up closer and unlocked it. She was really gonna do this. Was she selfish for willingly playing with the idea of a Pact? Probably, and she did feel bad. But wasn’t that the deal with most people that seeked a Pact with a demon? They would desire glory, fame, love or untold amounts of money. But she didn’t feel like her desire stemmed from any of those too strongly. 

Maybe love but even then that was muddled. She and Crowley weren’t in a romantic relationship. They were strictly two beneficiaries who’ve long consented to fulfill a basic need of the other without any strings attached. And their unspoken contract allowed an open status, which basically meant they can engage in other business deals short term. 

And even if she failed to persuade Crowley, well, they can always enact one of their conference sessions. That is if he was in the mood of course, she was no stranger to the art of masturbation.

Anathema dialed his number and put it up to her ear. She perked up and her back became straighter when the line picked up after a couple of rings. She wasn’t one to dance around what was on her mind with him. Or Aziraphale. Or just in general really. Thus, she cut right to the chase with a bold confidence shown through the casualness of her voice.

“I want to make a Pact.” She emphasized the p as if one can audibly hear capital letters.

There was a still silence for a long few seconds before Crowley replied. His voice serious, “That’s something that can’t be discussed over a mere phone call Anathema. I’m coming over,” She can hear the rustle of bedsheets and a subsequent snap, “And set out some wine and whiskey while you wait.”

Lord knows she can go for a glass or two of hard liquor with something heavy as this Anathema thought. She stood up, “Sure. Any particular wine?”

“Uhh, surprise me. There should be plenty to choose from, Aziraphale restocked them a few days ago.” And by restocked, Crowley meant the angel simply miracle them to all be full once again. 

“Alright I’ll see you soon.” 

Anathema hung up a moment later and kept the casual nightshirt and pants she had on. She didn’t have the energy right now to change into something a little more presentable but wasn’t like this was the first time and it was Crowley. He wasn’t less likely than Aziraphale to give a shit on how she presented herself, and plus it was nighttime anyways.

_May 31st, 2022_

After a couple more questions – Crowley apparently didn’t have the energy nor the will to sober up enough to drive – and one summoning circle later, he and Anathema were in the process of inebriation. She leaned up against the chair while Crowley slouched on one end of the couch.

Crowley took a swig from his thin stemmed wine glass before he leaned closer in her direction, his eyes wide “...so you actually burned the second set of prophecies?” They have been playing catch up for the past thirty minutes. 

Anathema nodded, “I wanted to be in control of my own destiny for once. All I have been doing for most of my life is living my life as someone else dictated. In this case Agnes.” Her face would’ve been a hundred percent confident of her actions if it wasn’t for just the subtlest hint of hesitation in her tone.

Crowley hiccuped as he leaned back, “I imagine angel would still be somewhat bereft over it.”

Anathema took the last sip of whiskey before Crowley refilled her tumbler for her, “Although I admit part of me still wonder if it was a...good idea overall,” She slowly admitted as she looked ahead at the demon.

“Hmm...well I wasn’t gonna say anything-” 

“It was spur of the moment,” She crispy said then her voice softens, “Anyways I realized what if...what if years down the road they wanted to restart it? Heaven and Hell. Armageddon 2.0 and for all we know they could destroy us or...or enslave all of humankind!” She moved her free arm up in a dramatic flair.

Crowley was in the midst of a sip before he suddenly felt the need to cough before he sputtered. That was certainly a new theory but definitely unfounded. At least to him but he was curious to know why that hypothesis was a thing that came from her mouth, “Why would we want to enslave you humans?” His voice rose just a bit, not enough to be considered incredulous but enough that begged an explanation.

Anathema shrugged, “I don’t know but we won’t really know for sure now would we? A second book of prophecies would prove useful in this case,” Anathema swallowed a generous amount of liquor, “I should’ve just fucking put it in a box or chest and stuck it in the attic.”

Crowley hem and hawed before he conceded, “You have a point there.”

“Exactly. So I’ve-I..’might as well fucking sent humanity into a life of slavery.”

Crowley finished off his wine and set the wine glass down in favor for a bottle of Talisker whiskey, “You’re being dramatic book girl. As much as I have issues with the Lord Above, I don’t think God would stoop that low.”

‘She might,” She bluntly challenged. She felt buzzed enough to be a bit extra argumentative. Her objective side would tell her otherwise, if anything God was more of a distant parent who grew bored of humanity if you asked her. But as it is, the altered state of her mind and the regret she felt over the new book she had gotten and since destroyed propelled her into this newfound theory.

“And your evidence would be?”

“I’m just thinking of all possible outcomes. I mean God appeared to be above stopping the End of the World. It was ultimately up to us,” She referred to the ragtag of misfits she and Crowley were a part of at the airbase all those years ago. Her point was punctuated by making a gesture between her and the demon.

“That doesn’t mean She wants to enslave anyone...that just means She’s can’t be bothered to do fuck anything that’ll ensure the wellbeing of any of us!”

“Sets Her on that potential dangerous road though. Isn’t She the one that threw a temper tantrum that killed innocents just for the sake of teaching us a lesson with the whole Flood thing?” Anathema may not be religious but she sure did know the basic bible stories from church as a kid.

Crowley took several gulps from the bottle before he answered, “How in the blasted universe does that unfor-unfortun...bad event lead to enslavement?!”

“Aright maybe it's-it’s a little...bit of stretch-”

Crowley interjected, skeptical of her claims, “A little?”

She took another sip before she continued on, her voice grew a little stronger as if she just discovered a deeply hidden truth about the Universe, “But think about it!” Anathema insisted, not deterred by her alcohol fueled reasoning, “You implied no one knew what the Ineffable Plan entailed back at the airbase right?”

Crowley nodded, “Yep.” He popped the p at the end. 

“And...I admit this is my own beliefs talking but...is God more of a reclusive type?”

“More than you humans realize. She only made contact with someone one time and that was 6000 years ago. And it was to Aziraphale to boot...” Crowley paused as he glanced between his glass then at Anathema, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Archwankers got jealous if they knew that.”

Anathema raised her arms up in front of her at what she took as her grand epiphany finally realized by Crowley, “See?! Who to say God changed Her plans now and have decided to give that a try in a hundred years time or whatever in some grand punishment for humanity. I wouldn’t be too surprised if She put that on the list.” She rolled her eyes and took another drink.

Crowley by now rested his head on his hand with his arm on the armrest of the sofa, his legs crossed while he stared absentmindedly up at the ceiling. He felt like he was took drunk to parse all of the aspects of what Anathema just said, “Alright lets hypothetically say God announced you lot have, uhh I dunno, five years to shape up or its slavery for a few centuries, who would be owning who?”

“You-uh-I mean...you know...Heaven and Hell,” Anathema corrected herself. She looked down at her almost finished glass in her hand before she glanced up at Crowley, “And it’ll be easy to do too, one snap and suddenly I’m calling you Master Crowley with no knowledge of any other reality.”

“How would humans learn their lessons if they don’t remember anything that led up to the punishment?”

Anathema took several seconds to look at Crowley as their gazed became locked. Her face softened as she conceded. She leaned back into her chair, “You have a point there.”

A comfortable silence passed between them. Anathema led her mind wander back to the whole hypothetical scenario. Really, even through her drunken haze, she realized there was something interesting to be had when she let the words ‘Master Crowley’ roll off her tongue. 

“Kinda hot thought,” She casually confessed, which pique Crowley enough to turn his head towards her.”

“What?”

Anathema leaned forward towards Crowley, “Calling you Master just now. It’s...sexy when you think about it.” She gave him a coy smile.

Crowley stared at her for a second before he briskly sat back up, an obliged smile on his face. He took a moment to go over the implications in his head, did Anathema implied that she was in the mood? Of course he was the mood himself now that the thought was in his head. There was something about a kinky Master/Slave roleplay that intrigued him at the moment. 


	3. Chapter 3

_May 31st, 2032_

Crowley sat upright on Anathema’s bed, the latter on his lap enclosed in the demon’s embrace. It’s been an hour since he’d arrived. And approximately five minutes since they decided to continue a very serious topic over an inappropriate situation. Anyone else with a sane mind – Aziraphale and most of the world - would rather discuss anything heavy while not engaging in coitus.

See Crowley and Anathema had a problem – or at least if one would call it that – they tended to develop the mood once they reached the buzzed state of drunkenness. That sweet spot between levels where they felt the effects but they aren’t so sloshed that they don’t know what they are saying. Now that is to say they didn’t encounter this problem every single time they meet up. But it was a frequent occurrence.

One or the other would show up, they share a few drinks while they talked and listened to if they had any recent issues. Dole out advice if they had any and then they would fall into a welcomed silence. Then either one would pretty much bluntly ask if the other is in the mood. Sometimes they are, sometimes they aren't. And half the time neither don’t bring it up.

They may be friends with benefits but they weren’t horndogs by any stretch of the word. 

This time was the same old song and dance. Crowley showed up to already set up array of whiskey, tumblr and a vintage wine from 1874 France. They both independently planned to segue into Anathema’s request but as they are known to do sometimes, they veered off topic during what was supposed to be quick small talk. Apparently the topic of Aziraphale’s computer still running Windows 98 was enough to forget everything else for a little bit.  
  
Now Anathema laid on her back up against Crowley, her clothes having been snapped away only moments prior. Her bare neck laid out in the open for Crowley to bite and inject some of his aphrodisiac venom. It wasn’t anything new but he felt better if he explained what he was about to do (This wasn’t just with Anathema, it was all the same with Aziraphale as well).

“You’re ready Anathema? You’re gonna also feel more...compliant than usual.”

Anathema smiled, a little cheeky grin, “I’m already am,” Crowley softly chuckled as he bent down to sink his fangs into her skin. There was a soft yelp as she felt her body suddenly relax to the point where while she can move her limbs, she didn’t have enough energy to really move them. This was their to go way to start things off to a good arousing start – pun intended. 

Crowley pulled back and waved away his own clothes with one hand while he held Anathema with his other arm. He used his legs to slowly put them on top of Anathema’s to hold them apart. Even with the venom that coursed through her body, she was even to melt even more into the demon’s sensual hold. She can already feel herself brim with desire to be satisfied. 

“So about that request you called me with...” Crowley started as he slowly moved his hand up her thigh and towards her already wet pussy. He had enacted just enough demonic strength to hold her firmly in place.

Anathema lightly cried out pleasure as she felt Crowley’s fingers expertly covered her sensitive skin. It took a second for her to form a coherent reply, “Yeah?”

“Why exactly do you want to make a Deal?” 

“Because I-” Anathema was cut off by an involuntary moan as Crowley slowly thrusted and swirled his fingers around. The sensation send up nothing but waves and waves of sweet euphoria up her spine.

When it was clear that she wasn’t gonna answer any second, Crowley paused, just ceased all motions though he made no effort to remove his hand. Anathema gave a soft pitiful whimper as she looked at him, “What made you think I wanted you to stop?” She playfully whined. She knew what Crowley was doing.

Crowley chuckled, “Won’t start again until you answer my question.” He finished off with a sweet, sultry kiss that reminded her of warm summer days gone by. A touch of demonic fire mixed in with warm lust. 

“Fine. I want to make a Pact because I don’t…..I don’t want to lose the only close friends I have,” A poignant silence fell between them. Crowley picked up on the implication, it was hard not to really. 

“You’re afraid we would leave you once you grow old?” He whispered gently, merely just inquisitive for clarification sake.

“Pretty much yeah,” Anathema sighed softly, “It’s hard for me to be reminded of my mortality at times. I know it would be would be easier in that respect if I didn’t know you guys but I do and I-I don’t want to give that up.”

Crowley resumes stroking, he willed a soft buzz of magic into her body meant to supplement the physical means of doing things. It resulted in a light throaty moan emitted from Anathema. 

“I understand that, it’s hard on us too. You humans have fleeting lives compared to us. One blink and I’m left wondering how they get so old all of a sudden, weren’t they young a day ago?” He quietly chuckled, an attempt at levity to keep this conversation from being too morose, “But you do realize that means you’re gonna outlive your family right? Your friends?”

“I already said-“

“I know what you said, I meant from your lot. Don’t you have any close human friends?”

Anathema fell silent, more astutely aware of the quiet around them. Heard nothing except for their steady breaths. She gazed at a point off to the side before she looked back at Crowley, “Honestly I...gradually fell out of touch with them over the course of the 11 years that led up to me coming over here.”

“Oh, too busy preparing to stop the apocalypse?” 

“Yeah. I mean don’t get me wrong I wasn't completely devoid of any social interactions, still saw a friend or two then, but I was focused on saving the world while they were focused on normal life things,” She explained matter of factly though with a touch of forlorn desire, “Moving over here was the final nail in the coffin. Lost touch with all of my old friends after that.”

“Do you regret moving here?”

There was just the scant, barest beat of silence before Anathema shook her head confidently, “No, I don’t. I don’t at all. It’s easier not to regret anything when your own family disowns you just because you want to be done with being a Descendant.” 

“Bollocks to them if they don’t realize you also have a right to do your own thing.” 

“I agree,” Anathema smiled and gave him a light peck on the cheek. 

“So you understand what you’re getting yourself into? Your soul is gonna be permanently mine if we do do this. One way ticket to hell and all that.”

“Not like I didn’t know I was destined for Hell already,” Anathema chuckled casually, “I was never that religious anyways.”

“You run the risk of forgetting more detailed memories than you like after a certain point.”

Anathema could shrug right now if it weren’t for the effects of the sexual poison, “I’ll keep a journal if I feel inclined to.”

“Yeah you could,” Crowley agreed as he lightly sped up the thrusts. A deeper strings of moans emitted from the back of Anathema’s throat as she closed her eyes and arched her hips, “I’m not really a journal kinda guy. Who wants to spend several hours spilling out everything in some blank book when you can just numb it away.”

Anathema chuckled, “Well it certainly has its benefits.”

“Hmm, I’m not so sure. Hey how close are you book girl?”

“C-close….so close,” Anathema said with a shudder. Her body trembled with the intense desire to be relieved Crowley smiled playfully as he pulled his fingers out and moved his hand up to a spot on her lower abdomen.

Anathema let out a soft whimper as she looked at him. This was cruel, right when she was about to lose it, the demon had to stop the process, “Crowley what are you-what are-“ 

Crowley proceeded to push some of his magic down into her skin, meant to be a warm, arousing sensation. It seeped down between every atom, every fiber of her groin down to the bone. Anathema moaned and melted even more if that was possible into Crowley’s hold. 

She pleaded with uncharacteristic meekness, “Please don’t-ah-Crowley don’t-ah-don’t stop…por favor.”

Crowley lazily circled his finger around on her skin before he gracefully waved his hand and snapped. He can feel Anathema subtly squirm under the hold of sweet, sweet intense desire that burned like a wildfire. Spread out over every inch of her body, her relief held back by the whims of a certain demon.

“Not until we’re finished with this Pact business,” He smiled mischievously as he laid his arm across her chest. He gave her a look that told her he knew there was something else. Something he knew that she hadn’t verbalized yet. 

“Cruel.” She lightly said with a casual smile, no hint of any actual accusation.

“I am a demon after all. And I don’t suppose there’s a...more selfish reason? I only ask cause you humans are all basically the same when it comes to Deals. Same song and dance really. Some are just more subtle about what they really desire.”

Crowley snapped again and Anathema felt another sudden wave of intense pleasure wrack through her skin.

“Ah! I don’t-dont want to give this up-ah...please,” Anathema cried out, if she could, she would’ve gripped the sheets so hard her knuckles would be white, “Crowley I need-“

Crowley gently grasped her chin and turned her head to face her. His snake eyes borne through her with an inescapable gaze,“Give up what?” He encouraged softly.

Anathema softly panted as she looked at him with soft eyes that pleaded desperately to allow to feel the dam burst, “This thing we have. I also don’t want to give up the sex benefit of our aspect of our friendship.”

“Neither do I to be honest,” Crowley admitted. There was a pregnant silence that fell between the two for a moment, a concerned look washed over his face, “I just don’t want you to regret it. Once your soul is mine, it’s mine.”

“I gave it some thought over the last few months.”

“Yeah?”

Anathema smiled, “I won’t regret it.” The words left her lips as effortlessly as if it was just second nature. Her decision was solidified a few weeks ago, the rest she just worked up the courage to actually request it. She was just too fond of her friendship and didn’t want to change anything.

A second or two later there was a snap followed by a moan so loud one may have thought it rattled the walls of the bedroom.


End file.
